


Speaking From The Heart

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Mute Tobirama, Several Different POVs, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 05:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: We all want someone who will stop and listen to us, however we decide to make ourselves heard.(aka that story where Tobirama is mute and it changes some things but not others)





	Speaking From The Heart

Mito’s first impression of Tobirama was that of a polite man with proper manners. He was the only other person besides herself present at the meeting who did not speak over the crowd of voices at any time. In fact, he remained perfectly silent for the entire duration, serenely perched next to his brother and sipping his tea with nothing but a few twitches of his brows to hint at his thoughts. At the time and with no information on either of their personalities Mito wondered why she was being given as a bride to the other, louder sibling instead of such an exemplary gentleman.

Closer to the end of the meeting she saw Tobirama emerge from his shell at last, placing one hand on his brother’s shoulder to gain his attention and then using both to make shapes in the air. Mito was delighted. She waited only long enough for Hashirama to make his reply before leaning across the table to capture Tobirama’s attention for herself.

“You speak sign language! My mother lost her hearing shortly after I was born; I learned both silent and spoken language as I grew.” She offered him a polite smile, thrilled when he lifted his hands to reply.

It only made sense, she thought. The room around them was quite loud and clearly he wished to practice – although he didn’t seem to need it. His sign language was as flawless as her own. Still, she appreciated having someone to speak to like this other than her mother or his own siblings. It was pleasant to share that part of herself with someone outside the family and she very seriously began to wonder if her father might consider changing a few things in the alliance contract they were drawing up to merge her people with the Senju.

Tobirama was able to keep her entertained with some very intelligent silent conversation until the Senju delegation and her father’s counsel finally talked themselves out. She might have paid attention if they were discussing something more interesting than the precise amounts of sea food and wood to be traded between their clans each year but as that was the only thing left on today’s agenda she felt no guilt in losing herself among the challenge of stretching her secondary vocabulary to its limits, having discovered that her conversation partner also enjoyed fūinjutsu.

More and more she was beginning to think she should be marrying this man rather than the one to whom her hand had been initially offered.

Over the next couple of days she sought Tobirama’s company as often as she could. It didn’t occur to her as strange that he continued to communicate only in sign language but she also didn’t see him speaking with anyone other than his own sibling. From what she gathered in their conversations he wasn’t a fan of most people and preferred to keep to himself. If things had gone on in this manner for much longer it was very likely she might have embarrassed herself terribly by asking for things he was not willing to give and in the process insulting her future husband-to-be.

The first thing which tipped her off that her growing fantasies of a perfectly polite marriage were unattainable was the moment she saw Tobirama giving a very discreet once-over to her very male cousin. Rather than seem at all ashamed of his actions, when he noticed her watching he lifted one eyebrow and both hands.

 _Is he single?_ He asked her in sign language. Mito blinked.

 _Yes_.

_Does he speak like we do?_

_No, very few in Uzushio do._

The disappointment on his face was palpable but cleared quickly, pragmatic even in being denied.

 _You are the second heir of your clan, are you not? Such tastes are…frowned upon for heirs among my people_. She allowed her face to show her hesitance for the question but he waved such an impolite question aside in favor of pinching his expression at the members of his own clan.

_My inability to speak makes my position as the second-born rather shaky anyway. Sexual preferences won’t matter until they decide whether I can lead in this condition or not._

Although she managed to stop herself from showing it, Mito very nearly fell out of her seat with embarrassed shock. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he was _unable_ to speak. Or that he might not be sexually attracted to members of her gender.

It seemed she had many things to learn about Tobirama and the Senju clan as a whole before she continued to make assumptions about any of them.

 

-

 

It didn’t occur to Izuna until long after the fact that Tobirama had never once spoken during their clashes, no war cries or trash talk, not even an involuntary exclamation of pain on the rare occasion he was bloodied more than a simple scratch. Izuna could probably be forgiven for not adding these things together in his mind since most of his attention was usually focused on protecting his clan’s future and staying alive himself.

On the other hand, he thought it might be less forgivable that it took him a couple of weeks after peace had been made to figure things out.

Natural suspicion and a lifetime of seeing the Senju as his enemies led Izuna to assuming the worst possible thing when he was finally present for Tobirama’s attempts at communicating with others. During the first few peace talks his counterpart had remained perfectly silent, his face barely moving from an impassive expression, and Izuna had assumed the other man was simply making a silent assessment of his new tentative allies – either that or holding his temper by refusing to speak. Their clans had already met several times and Tobirama was always there sitting next to his brother yet he always remained silent. Even stranger was how no one from his own clan seemed interested in asking the opinion of a rumored genius, their supposed second heir.

It wasn’t until the signing of the final peace treaty between them that Izuna finally saw him frown and turn to his brother, both hands lifting to make shapes in the air before him. Clearly the first thought on every Uchiha’s mind was that he was forming hand signs.

The commotion of every Uchiha present leaping to the defensive at once caused all of the Senju to react in turn, the entire clearing bristling with weapons in the span on a few seconds.

“What is the meaning of this?” Hashirama’s wife demanded; Mito, he thought was her name.

“Ask _him_ ,” Izuna spat, nodding his head towards Tobirama and irritated when all he received was a tilted head and a frown. “Not even going to defend yourself? They’re handing you the pen to sign for peace and you’re weaving signs for an attack!”

“Oooooh. I think I see what happened.” Without warning Hashirama burst in to booming laughter, holding his belly as one might upon hearing a particularly good joke.

Tobirama glared his sibling down, reaching over to shove him sideways, but said nothing still.

“Do tell,” Madara snarled, already inching sideways to put himself between Izuna and the Senju. No one had lowered their weapons yet and he clearly did not intend to be the first. “We all saw his hands, Hashirama. Don’t try and deny that he was doing something. Explain or it all ends here and you lose this one chance for our families to live in peace.”

“He wasn’t weaving signs, he was just talking!”

“I _just_ said that we saw his hands!”

“That’s how he talks, dumb ass,” one of the Senju women spoke up, the really attractive one with the big muscles. Izuna regretted that he’d never had a chance to face her on the field.

Any fantasies about muscly arms he might have slipped in to, however, were immediately dispelled as her words sunk in. “He what now? Talks with his hands?”

“Well duh, he’s mute.” The woman shrugged, Tobirama standing at her side with no visible reaction on his face beyond a mild wariness. “He was born that way so he’s learned to talk with his hands. It’s called sign language. Which I’m sure you would know if you weren’t an uneducated dog.”

“Fuck you, Senju!”

“I’d really rather you didn’t. I don’t go in for whiny bitches.”

“Oi!”

Amidst the flailing and the yelling which followed after, Tobirama’s lack of speech sort of fell to the wayside. Only once he had been forcibly removed from the meeting and marched back home by his exasperated older brother did the situation finally sink in. Izuna stood in the middle of his bedroom and stared blankly at one of the walls, muttering to himself as he went through all the battles his Sharingan had memorized and confirmed that Tobirama hadn’t made so much as a sound in any of them.

Then he spent the next hour desperately trying to deny that having an explanation for the creepy silence made Tobirama just a little more human in his eyes.

 

-

 

Shishou made weird faces at sensei sometimes. Kagami had noticed it almost as soon as he started training with Tobirama, though he’d never been stupid enough to mention anything about it.

Usually it didn’t interfere with their training so it wasn’t like he cared much either but sometimes sensei would stop sparring to look over at shishou with a deep frown and a questioning expression, fingers twitching at his sides with the desire to say something even though he knew that he couldn’t. Sensei spoke with his hands instead of his voice and there weren’t a lot of people outside of his own family who understood what he was trying to say.

Kagami thought if there were more people in his own clan who were willing to just spend a little time around his teacher then they would want to get to know him too and, really, it would be all too easy for anyone of the Uchiha blood line. He himself had to learn sensei’s hand language the hard way but for someone who had already activated their Sharingan it would be the work of a couple hours to memorize all the hand signs. Kagami couldn’t decide if his clan head was too proud or just too much of a complicated grown up to think of such a simple solution. And he wasn’t about to suggest it just in case he got yelled at.

Shishou was kind of famous for his yelling.

The weird look was back today but at least shishou was sitting out of the way at the edge of the clearing, his arms crossed as he sat on the ground with his back against a tree, eyes trained on their ragtag group. Sensei had a lot of people from several clans who wanted to train with him but he only accepted the students who were willing to learn his language. They had to be patient enough to stop and listen when he needed them to as well; that quality had weeded out several other students who no longer came for sparring practice.

It was kind of odd to be so quiet while they fought but sensei liked to point out that it was good for them to work on making their movements as silent as possible. He said it would help them become better shinobi.

“Pssst. Kagami.” He looked up to find Hiruzen waving at him. Before answering he took a moment to peek over and make sure that sensei wasn’t watching before shrugging his shoulders questioningly. “Why does Madara-sama keep coming back to stare at sensei?”

“I dunno,” he whispered back.

“Do you think it bothers him?”

“I dunno,” he repeated. “But sensei hasn’t told him to go away yet.”

Hiruzen rolled his eyes. “Duh, because he can’t.”

Rather than allow his friend to see how stupid that had made him feel, Kagami straightened his back at the last second as their teacher turned to eye the both of them suspiciously. Upon seeing Hiruzen bent over to whisper at someone else while they were meant to be concentrating on their kata he leveled the boy with a narrow eyed look of disappointment.

 _If you have questions I am the one who is supposed to instruct you, not your fellow students_ , he signed. Hiruzen gulped and nodded frantically.

“Sorry. I was just wondering why Madara-sama keeps staring at you.” Hiruzen ducked his head in shame but Kagami, who had miraculously escaped a watery death this time, caught the faint look of frustration on sensei’s face.

_He has yet to tell me why and I refuse to play broken telephone with a man who cannot take the initiative to try and open communication himself. Now get back to your kata._

Kagami let his weight rest on one foot and very carefully raised the other until it hovered well above his head, his eyes never leaving their teacher. It was interesting, he thought, that sensei hadn’t asked anyone to tell shishou to go away yet. Even with his silent mode of communication he had never hesitated to send someone packing before, although he frequently had to do so using someone else’s voice. It was almost as if he didn’t _want_ shishou to go away.

Which was ridiculous. All he did was stand there and make that same weird expression all the time.

 

-

 

Watching Madara struggle through the task he had assigned himself was both an exercise in boredom and probably the sweetest thing Hashirama had ever seen. He himself had mastered sign language as a child, as soon as their small family understood that Tobirama would never speak, and he simply wasn’t suited for helping someone else learn something that he already knew so well. Yet he forced himself to be patient and converse with Madara as slowly as the other man needed because he’d never seen a more romantic gesture than the one his friend was quietly working at.

It honestly surprised him that Madara was capable of such romance but he hadn’t seen fit to say so. He wasn’t _that_ stupid.

“Slow down! I only caught half of what you just said!” His guest slumped over the kotatsu and glared at him, his massive hair in wild disarray from all the times he had pulled his fingers through it in frustration.

“But you know all of these signs,” Hashirama pointed out. Madara glared harder.

“My brain knows them separately, yes, but it’s not an instinctive for me as it is for you. I have to stop and think about which means what.”

“You know that you could practice with Tobirama just as easily, right? He wouldn’t mind.”

“Absolutely not!” His friend jerked upright with a scandalized expression. “How am I supposed to carry on a conversation with him if it takes me five minutes to figure out whatever he’s trying to say? He’ll think I’m a simpleton! Just shut up and do it again, alright? I need to get better.”

Hashirama smiled and shook his head but raised his hands obligingly, forming the signs a little slower this time as he silently asked, _Are you staying for dinner tonight?_ A wave of glee rushed through him when he saw the light of understand dawning in the other man’s eyes and hesitant hands forming their own signs to respond to him. Madara’s Sharingan had made quick work of ensuring he could create them but possessing that knowledge did not automatically mean he knew how to apply it.

 _I don’t think that is a good idea_.

_Why not?_

_Your brother will think I am ignoring him again_.

 _Then maybe you should talk to him_.

“I can’t, you nincompoop, that’s why we’re doing this!” Madara burst out, slamming his fist down on the table. “Didn’t I ask you to cut the commentary? I’ll never get better if you won’t shup up and just help me learn this!”

“Awww, Madara! You never ask anyone for help. This is really big of you.”

“Fuck off. No wait, here.” He raised the middle finger on one hand. “Does that still mean the same thing?”

“Well…he’d understand you at least.”

_Go die in a hole. You are a waste of space. I hate you._

“Those aren’t phrases you should be saying to my brother; should you really be practicing with them?”

Madara screamed in frustration and did his best to rant with his fingers in place of his mouth, using as much vocabulary as he could pull out of his quickly-formed memories.

Distracted by their own drama as they were, neither of them took notice of the figure peering around the doorway with a soft smile who disappeared a moment later. Hashirama was too busy laughing at Madara’s mishmash of loud and silent screaming and trying to encourage his best friend without sounding condescending. He really hoped that this plan of theirs worked out.

And he really hoped Tobirama was ready to be patient because Madara was terrible at this.

 

-

 

This was it. He was going to do it. It had taken too many long months of stupidly difficult struggles but finally he felt ready to do this. Today was the day he was going to speak to Tobirama.

Madara mentally rolled his eyes at how childish he was being but at the same time he couldn’t deny his excitement. His interest in Tobirama had been sparked as soon as he learned the man was incapable of speech, an innocent interest at first as he quietly sought more information on the situation through subtle questions that his reunited best friend always answered without seeming to think much of it. The more he learned and the closer he watched, the more he became invested until one day he realized that he had developed a crush on someone he had no idea how to speak to.

Well, he could speak _to_ Tobirama. Problems arose in that Tobirama could not speak back to him if Madara didn’t take the time to learn sign language first.

Now he finally felt confident enough in his skills to do something with them. Madara took a deep breath in and let it back out slowly to calm his racing heart before knocking twice on the door he’d been milling around in front of for the past ten minutes. He waited until the two knocks were echoed from inside before entering and almost losing his nerve at the sight of Tobirama’s curious expression. The man looked much too attractive in his casual blue shirt and reading glasses, seated behind the desk from which he silently ran half of the village.

Swallowing thickly, Madara closed the door behind himself and steeled his nerves, raising his hands and trying to ignore the open surprise he could see on Tobirama’s face.

 _Will you join me for lunch? You have not taken a break yet today._ Forming the words didn’t take him nearly as long as they used to. After so much practice with Hashirama it was very close to being as natural as any second language should be and he was inordinately proud of how far he had come. The joy on Tobirama’s face was certainly more than worth the effort.

_Yes, thank you. Where will we eat?_

Madara very carefully spelled out the name of the small café just down the street from the administration tower which he happened to know sold tea and the kind of sweet cakes Tobirama would kill a man for. The smile he received in return was all the reward he needed.

After all the many hours and weeks of effort, it was hard to describe the feeling of walking side by side with the one he had admired from afar for so long – but even better than that was finally being able to sit across from him in a private café booth and have their very first conversation. Tobirama complimented him on his proficiency with sign language and asked, with a strange little smile on his face, why they had never spoken like this before. Madara changed the subject as quickly as he could.

He learned more about Tobirama in the single hour they spent on break together than he had ever dared to ask Hashirama about before. At some points he questioned whether his incessant questions were too invasive or if he was being subtle enough for his companion to take little notice but since Tobirama never said anything he saw no reason to stop. He was certain that Tobirama would have no trouble telling him to back off if that was what he wanted. Just witnessing a few silent arguments had been enough for Madara to learn that this was a man who was not afraid to state his opinions.

Incredibly, he managed to make it all the way through their meal and the entire walk back to the tower without embarrassing himself in any way. His good fortune came to an end, however, when they stopped outside of Tobirama’s office and the man turned to him with his lips turned up in a half-smirk.

 _This was pleasant_ , he signed. _You should ask me on another date soon_.

“Date!?” Madara blurted, blood rising to his cheeks. Dating and romance had been an end goal in the back of his mind, certainly, but he hadn’t truly intended for this to be an intimate outing today. His intention had been to build at least some sort of companionship between them before even attempting to ask for more.

Tobirama’s smirk widened and he winked before closing the door of his office, leaving Madara alone in the hallway to wonder how in the hell he’d gotten so lucky.

 

-

 

Some might call it stalking but Touka preferred to think of her newly acquired habit as ensuring the safety of her loved ones. It was no secret that she was rather protective of her youngest cousin – although she would be the first to admit that he hardly needed protecting – so it probably wouldn’t be much of a surprise if that idiot Uchiha ever realized that she was following behind them on all of their dates. He probably wouldn’t notice though. From what she observed, he tended to get so wrapped up in his companion that he stopped paying attention to anything else. Charming, if a little stupid.

It was unlikely that Tobirama hadn’t noticed her but she figured he was simply taking the path of least resistance. They both knew she wouldn’t stop even if he asked her to so merely pretending she wasn’t there was the most peaceful option for all.

Like most people, Touka had quite a few doubts when she first heard of the budding relationship between Uchiha Madara and her precious baby cousin. That certainly wasn’t who she would ever have chosen for Tobirama and she’d wondered if they would even make it past the first date. After silently accompanying them over the past few weeks and observing from afar she could admit that she was reluctantly on board with the idea. Madara treated Tobirama much better than she would have expected him to.

Unfortunately, her habit of following them around was beginning to encounter some negative consequences as their relationship progressed and they started to behave more intimately. Touka wasn’t sure if she wanted to smirk or gag as she turned her head away, avoiding the sight of her cousin making out with his boyfriend for the third time in the same evening. She definitely could have lived without having to watch that.

At this point she was sure that the two of them would be fine and there wasn’t much need for her hovering anymore, not when she was grudgingly beginning to trust that Madara was serious about this. It was harder than it should have been to let go, though. No matter how many times she told herself that being mute didn’t make Tobirama helpless it was still her first instinct to watch over him and leap to his defense at the slightest hint that he might need her. Touka was more than aware that he found this habit as offensive as he did touching.

It seemed that today he saw it as slightly more on the offensive side, however. Peeking over to make sure they were still in her line of sight, her spine went rigid when Tobirama looked over and caught her eye for the first time. One eyebrow lifted and he raised his hands to chastise her from across the dark clearing.

She really hoped Madara didn’t know some of those signs yet. Tobirama’s language was positively filth when he was angry.

Touka flashed her cousin a grin and retreated before any mysterious bodies of water could find her hiding place. If they were going to get nasty in a public place she had no desire to stick around and watch it happen. As much as she loved her baby cousin there were some things she didn’t want to know about him and the question of whether he topped or bottomed was not one she needed an answer to.

Checking behind herself once last time as she left, Touka realized that she was now alone in the park and laughed. Wherever they went she hoped they enjoyed the rest of their night because she was definitely going to tease them about this later.

 

-

 

Warm sheets against his back and cool fingers mapping out his chest, Tobirama sighed in contentment and thought distractedly that he could never have imagined he would end up in this situation – though he was happy that he did.

A smile touched his face when Madara froze above him, fingers falling still and eyes darting up to his face to see if everything was alright.

 _You didn’t have to stop_.

The older man hesitated and Tobirama used the pause to let his eyes wander down his partner’s body. Legs spread to straddle Tobirama’s hips, shirt gaping open and drooping from one shoulder, he looked like any number of unspoken fantasies come to life. His expression was the one thing more endearing than sexy, cautious in a way not many got to see him because he’d heard one of the few noises his partner could make and wanted to make sure it was a good sigh, not a bad one.

“If you’re sure.” Madara dropped his eyes to one side, embarrassed. “I’m…used to just…listening to make sure the other person is, ah, enjoying themselves.”

A slightly awkward silence fell over them as both men shifted in slight discomfort. Tobirama frowned at the idea that he had ruined the mood. Biting softly at his lower lip, he recaptured Madara’s attention so that he could speak.

 _I’m sorry_. He was touched that his partner responded with his own hands.

_For what? I overreacted._

_No, I’m sorry that I make this difficult for you._

“Excuse me?”

Tobirama’s mouth gave a wry twist and he sighed again, this time not so happily.

_Not being able to speak or even show you that I’m enjoying myself like this. It makes things difficult for you._

“I repeat, excuse me? Don’t you fucking _dare_ apologize! It’s not making anything difficult, just different. Just because I need to adjust the way I do some things doesn’t mean you should ever apologize for the way you were born.” Madara glared as he leaned down to poke Tobirama in the chest, just over his rapidly beating heart. “Would I have put so much effort in to being able to ask you on a date if I didn’t think it was worth it?”

All Tobirama could do was shake his head, a reluctant smile returning to his face.

“Hmph. So I have to pay more attention, so what? I’m a shinobi. We’re used to operating in silence.”

It was such a terrible joke that Tobirama couldn’t stop his smile from growing, soundless puffs of laughter causing his chest to jerk up and down. He noted the pride in Madara’s eyes as the man watched him laughing and felt compelled to pull him down for a heated kiss. The groan that echoed in his ears only encouraged him, sending his hands wandering across the body astride his own until they had reached around to cup Madara’s bottom and tuck him even closer.

With others his own silence had always felt like a wall between them, a scream that only he could hear, but with Madara things were different in the best possible way. He may not have been able to make sounds of his own but he would always enjoy the ones he could earn from his partner; being silent himself only ensured that he would never miss any of them.

For all the words he couldn’t say, only Madara had made an effort to find another way to listen.

**Author's Note:**

> Sign language has its own grammar and structure which isn't exactly the same as spoken language, some of which relies on facial expression and exaggerated movements. For the purposes of easier story telling I did not try to convert it to what it would realistically sound like.


End file.
